


Butts Are For Coins

by GreendaleHumanBeing



Category: Community (TV), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Will isn't crazy but Hanni is still a Canni
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1329367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreendaleHumanBeing/pseuds/GreendaleHumanBeing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ass Crack Bandit strikes again.  Can Jack Crawford's finest help solve the case? (Or will the study group get themselves involved and cause an intense downward spiral that no one can escape from?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butts Are For Coins

**Author's Note:**

> -Hannibal is not Will’s unofficial psychiatrist, he’s also consulting on cases and occasionally works with Will, Still a cannibal tho  
> -Will’s mental stability is better than the show, no encephalitis  
> -During season 5 of Community, pretending that Troy agreed to take the boat trip after he’s done at Greendale so he’s still there

The lecture he’s giving is riveting. Will feels a little vain even admitting this fact to himself but he _knows_ it is because even the kids who pretend to type notes but are actually playing solitaire are even paying attention.  (He briefly wonders why his students would waste their time on solitaire, if he didn’t want to pay attention during Jack’s debriefings he would just find funny pictures of puppies to keep him entertained.)

But seriously, this is one of his best lectures to date.  And then Jack walks in, hulking and intimidating.  Not screaming (not yet) but looking like he’s about to.  Already two students bolt from their seats, hiding their faces and hoping Jack doesn’t remember them based on insignificant physical features.  Will sighs deeply.

“Alright, you guys can go.  Read chapter seven of Brown’s book and come in with notes because I won’t be going over the reading.”  Will’s voice isn’t booming like Jack’s but it carries around the room well enough.  His students file out in a noisy clatter until he’s left alone with an oddly silent Jack Crawford. 

“Will, I’ve got a new case for you.” Will is unsurprised and a little annoyed, which he would voice freely if it weren’t for Jack’s behavior. His announcement is off, sounding a little lost.  Which is again, odd. Jack is always purposeful when he strides confidently into Will’s classroom.  The uncertainty overwhelming the room is unsettling.  Will tugs on his collar in an attempt to alleviate the pressure.

So he decides not to try to deflect. Nor does he try to engage Jack into some sort of power-play witty banter.  Instead, Will simply nods and follows his boss’ heavy footsteps down the winding hallways of the academy.  

Jack’s office is spacious but seems smaller when it’s covered in crime scene photos.  Will is immediately struck with the brutality of the scene before him and…were those _quarters_ shoved in that man’s… _oh._ Yes.  Definitely quarters.  It’s easy to see now why Jack is so baffled.

“This is what you wanted me to see?” Will mumbles while pointing to the series of gruesome photos pinned with care to Jack’s wall. Jack is seated at his desk, sorting most likely through reports relating to the same case. Looking up, he simply nods at Will.

“Getting into his head won’t be enough. There have been reports that he’s struck before this but the school he hit thought it was just a harmless prank. He’s getting better.”

Will hums, “Or she.  There’s no clear gender here and I can’t get a read on one just from the pictures.  This person, whoever they are, is not satisfied.  They want something _different_.” He looks back to Jack, humorless until he mutters, “This person wants change.”

Jack just rolls his eyes while Will frowns slightly. Katz, Price and Zeller would have laughed.  Will makes a mental note to try the joke on them later. 

“Will, I need you to go out there and investigate. The whole crew is going with you and have already been debriefed.”

The corner of Will’s mouth twitches, the only outward sign he’s displeased with being the last to know.  He figures the crime scene investigators would get notice ahead of time, long before the profiler so he lets it slide for now.

“I’m not entirely sure I can make it, I have a lot to keep up with here.  Midterms are on my heels as are my dogs at home.” 

The excuses are flimsy but passable. The case is interesting and Will is intrigued though, honestly, he does not want to travel, even if he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to be going yet.  A frustrated noise slips out of Jack’s mouth as if out of his own control. Will thinks Price owes him ten dollars.  They had made a bet a few weeks prior to New Years that Jack would, again, fail to uphold his traditional resolution of being more patient. Jimmy was drunk and in his alcohol-altered mind he had thought Jack would be different this year.

He was obviously wrong.

“This is a high profile case. If this helps, Dr. Lecter has agreed to come along as well.”

At this, Will does express his displeasure because why does _Hannibal Lecter_ know about this case _and_ get invited along before Will. Not even that, Jack had planned this all along because he knew Lecter would be his reason for going. Will had grudgingly admitted to himself, after working a few cases with the man, that he found him interesting. Their conversations, while not plentiful, were significant and stimulating.  Will curses his curiosity because he does want to know what Lecter thinks of the case.

But he doesn’t want Jack to know how easily he could be won over.

“Then have _Dr. Lecter_ handle the case.  Why do you need me?”  Will is candid and to the point.  He already knows what Jack is going to say and while he doesn’t get off on fishing for compliments, he does like to know that Jack’s control over him is a defense for how much he truly needs him in the field.

“I’m not your girlfriend, Will. You don’t have to keep checking in to see how much I love you.  Just get your ass on the plane and catch this guy.”  But Jack isn’t stupid either and Will smiles despite himself. 

“Where are we going, anyway?”

Jack points to the map on the wall and guides his finger west.

“Greendale, Colorado.”

___

The study room is mostly silent and for that, Jeff is thankful. He can still pick up the faint sound of rain outside but it’s soothing and Jeff is as soothed as an anxiety-ridden ex-lawyer can possibly be. Teaching material lays open and forgotten on the table in front of him.  He’s content to tip his chair back and plop his feet on the worn wood. Letting out a contented sigh, he stretches his long arms and folds them behind his head.

The study room doors slam open, nearly breaking yet another glass window with rapid force.  A familiarly annoying, nasally voice breaks Jeff’s calm. As well as ruins his life, just a little.

“Dean-a-doodle-dooo Jeffery! What a _dreary_ morning outside!”  Dean Pelton is dressed normally (thank God, Jeff doesn’t think he can handle another one of his costumes this early in the day) but just as chipper as usual.

He makes himself comfortable in Britta’s seat and produces a remote seemingly out of nowhere.  With a press of his fingers on the mysterious clicker, a television flickers to life in the corner of the room.  Jeff is perplexed.

“When the hell did we get a TV in here?”

The dean casts him a shady, sideways look. Those glances really should be trademarked. 

“Since I actually started watching the security footage from this room…”  He immediately turns back to the TV while Jeff’s face twists in horror as he searches the room for hidden cameras. 

Once he pinpoints their locations, (and really there’s one right under his side of the table, aimed lewdly at his crotch) he notices that the dean is not currently watching The View but the actual, honest to God, morning news.

“Since when do you watch the morning news?”

“So full of questions today, Jeffrey. Why don’t you take me out to dinner first” He giggles and Jeff grimaces.

“I think I’ll pass.”  Jeff is about to ask again, this time not even thinking about leaving room for coy, one-sided flirting but his question is forgotten, his attention now focused on the television.

_“And this just in, Dean of the local City College, Stephen Spreck pronounced dead on his campus.  Details regarding his death are hazy, further investigation is pending but it is believed that he died in women’s underwear.”_

_A few crime scene photos scroll over the screen, revealing a bloody trail of quarters_.

Pelton huffs a wistful sigh.   “That’s exactly how I pictured him to die.”

Jeff’s eyes bulge.  After five years the Dean still manages to shock him.

“In lace panties? Or chock-full of quarters?”

“Both.  Just throw in a blindfold and a dog collar and it’s spot on.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeff swings his feet down from their comfortable perch on top of the table.  He’s not going to be doing anymore relaxing.  Pelton flicks off the TV and turns to fully face Jeff.

“I’m afraid to say I can’t keep you company for much longer, Jeffery.  The FBI is paying me a visit to ask a few questions about his murder.”

Jeff doesn’t even bother to bulge his eyes at this point.  Further surprise is too much effort for him.

“ _Why?_ You haven’t seen that guy in years, let alone been away from Greendale long enough to be a credible suspect.”

“Look, our relationship was…complicated. We…talked occasionally and went to the same parties.  Our keys even got switched in the basket once and we drove each others cars home. Ahh the good ol’ days. But they called yesterday and told me to be ready for questioning.”

“My caring quota is almost up _for the day_ and I’m not going to waste it asking about your weird party life. This does sound like something the Ass Crack Bandit would do if he lost a few quarters—you know—” Jeff points to his head and spins his index finger around.

Briefly, Pelton looks angry.  Not just silly Dean angry but normal, functioning human being angry.  And Jeff is worried. Until the expression fades into one of discomfort.

“Wow!  Look at the time.  Can’t be late for men in uniform.”  Pelton winks cheekily at Jeff, who can’t help but notice it seems a little forced, before prancing away. He nearly bumps into the entirety of the study group turned Save Greendale Committee in his haste to escape.

“That was weird.”  Jeff mumbles to himself, the sound drowned out by his friends pulling back their chairs and sitting down. 

Troy nods his head at the open door to their room. “Where’s he going?” Before Jeff has a chance to answer, Britta loudly blows a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

“He’s either making a quick costume change or…” Her pale face becomes neutral, five years of knowing the Dean, Psych major or not, has caused her to pick up on his habits.  She ventures a guess.  “Men in uniform?”

Jeff nods solemnly.  “Men in uniform.”

Annie and Shirley cringe and groan in unison, both pushing away the breakfasts they brought from home.  Chang cackles while Duncan casts a mischievous glance over at Jeff.

“You know, Jeffrey here once donned a cop uniform just to pick up women at a bar.”

Britta rolls her eyes, arms crossed. “Why am I not surprised?”

Jeff holds up his arms in defense, not shocked at Brittas sarcasm but actually encouraged by it. 

“Okay, one, I look _great_ in uniform,” the entire table collectively boo’s him, throwing whatever pieces of trash they have on hand in his direction. “Two—” He shouts over the din, “—these are no ordinary men in uniform.  It’s the FBI investigating him about the murder of the Dean at City College.”

The table is silent, even Chang is wearing a hazy expression of concern.  Abed is mostly blank but leaning forward, obviously interested. 

Annie places her hands flat on the table. “I told you guys that the Ass Crack Bandit would escalate!”  Her ‘I told you so’ tone is only slightly different than her defensive voice, both are high pitched and aggressive. 

Troy’s eyes bulge comically wide. Fearfully, he seeks out Abed who pats him comfortingly on the shoulder.  The two don’t seem to notice Chang pointing at them and mouthing the word ‘gay’ repeatedly at Duncan who is barely containing his immature laughter.

“Hold on, Celine Dion.”  Britta bursts, capturing the attention of the room. “How do you know it’s actually them?”  

“It’s pretty obvious!  The bloody quarters at the crime scene!  Does that sound like anyone else’s MO? “  Annie glances around the table, nostrils flaring. “I didn’t think so!  But no one ever listens to Annie.”

Shirley looks ready to come to Annie’s aid, claim that she always listens to Annie as a friend and everyone else should be ashamed. Jeff opens his mouth before she has the chance.

“Look, Annie.  Even if we did listen to you about this, it’s not even about the Ass Crack Bandit to you.  You just want to be right about something and lord it over our heads.  Besides, we all know you’re a big girl.  You don’t have to prove it.” 

Annie would be a mix of angry and a little grateful (because at least Jeff voiced his recognition of her adulthood) at his speech but Jeff decides to finish it off with a head pat, which leaves very mixed messages.

After a moment of discomfort, Abed decides to speak up. “Speaking of father/daughter relationships—“ Jeff and Annie share a startlingly affronted expression as well as brimming embarrassment.  The two swiftly look away from each other. 

Abed is undeterred by the emotions he doesn’t immediately recognize.  “Troy and I are parents now.  Our daughters names are Rachel and Monica.”

A silence is all Abed receives. Scoffing affectionately after a beat, Annie addresses the room.  “Rachel and Monica are a baby chick and a duck.” 

Abed nods excitedly.  “Troy and I have been trying out different sitcom best friendships. Last week we were Will and Grace—“

The table collectively _Ohhh_ s in realization.  “That explains a few things.”  Britta mutters as Abed continues as if he were not interrupted.

“And this week we decided on Joey and Chandler so we adopted a chicken and a duck.  They’re both girls so we named them Rachel and Monica to keep with the theme.”

The group’s reaction is varied. Duncan and Chang are bursting into fits of laughter, completely unconcerned for secrecy.  Shirley looks on the verge of telling Troy and Abed that God is always there to guide them while Britta is fighting the urge to say the same thing but about herself and her desire to finally be someone’s therapist. Annie is entirely unfazed, almost appearing bored. 

Jeff’s eyes widen.  “No way!  Troy, you lost a bet to me and my prize was you naming your first-born child after me. I demand to have my name grace one of your farm animals.”

“It happened during _gas leak year_ so it totally doesn’t count.  And why do you want to be a girl duck?  Gay much?”  Troy laughs to himself and does his (not so patented) handshake with Abed.

Chang and Duncan laugh again, clutching the table for support.

“You know, guys,” Britta starts, glasses now perched delicately on the edge of her nose.  A groan erupts from the table; everyone already knows she’s going to take the opportunity to psychoanalyze Jeff.

“Jeff just wants to feel worthwhile, childhood trauma and an estranged relationship with one’s father could do that to you.” Trash rains down on her as she stands to egg her booing friends on. 

“Go ahead!  Mock my psychological genius.  When all of you go Coo Coo for Cocoa Puffs I won’t be there to prescribe you medication!”

Jeff stands and collects his untouched teaching material.  “Thank you for that, Britta.  I think I’m gonna go check on the Dean.  I don’t really trust him alone with men in uniform.  And to be clear I’m not worried for him.  I’m worried for _them_.”

The group sends him a collective goodbye, which he returns, in the form of a lazy over-the-shoulder wave. 

___

Will is tired. His plane was stuck on the runway for forty-five minutes and when he finally fell asleep, takeoff violently jostled him from his slumber.  The only form of entertainment Will had was his riveting discussion with Dr. Lecter about the peculiarities of the crime scene. 

Then the conversation twisted and morphed into a more personal, intimate conversation.  Will still refuses to admit to anyone (and now only sometimes himself) that he genuinely enjoys his time with the Doctor.  No matter how hard he had tried to push the man away, declining his efforts for friendship and sometimes outright refusing to talk, Dr. Lecter still was polite and friendly.

Will isn’t going to go around and call Lecter his friend but they were allowed to be _friendly_.

Upon finally landing, he is informed that his first visit will be to the rival Community college in the area, Greendale where similar but entirely less aggressive attacks took place. Apparently the deans had some sort of animosity between them so Jack figured he would be a credible suspect.

After checking into their rundown hotel, Lecter and Will parted ways with Beverly, Zeller and Price to venture over to Greendale. The school is a decent size, larger than Will’s high school but slightly smaller than an average college campus.

Lecter suggests they glance at the map to find their way to the deans office but they’re quickly overwhelmed by the extremely complicated and confusing names for buildings.  The East Hall is actually West of North Hall and what is the English Memorial Spanish Center even used for?

They both agree to simply ask for directions. A strange man with star shaped sideburns and a top hat guides them through a labyrinth of libraries and an _indoor greenhouse_ before approaching a room that simply read ‘Dean’ in bolded letters.

The man stands there for a moment, as if expecting a monetary tip.  Will sends him a glare and a stiff thank you.  He walks away, grumbling but neither Will nor Dr. Lecter mind. 

Before they even have the chance to knock, the door swings open to reveal a short, bald man in a (obviously fake) bulletproof vest.

“Hello, gentlemen!” His voice is grading and Will wishes he brought more pain killers with him.  “I’m dean-lighted to meet—“ the man pauses mid sentence and looks at Lecter closely.

“Well, well, look at you all dapper!” The dean touches Lecter’s tie lightly. Will expects his (friend?) companion (that’s it) to flinch back or tell him to move but Lecter simply runs his hand over his own tie, forcing the dean to retract his wandering fingers.

Easily distracted, the dean turns towards Will with equal interest.  “And you! So scruffy!”  Will’s eyebrow twitches but he doesn’t display his displeasure just yet.  The dean straightens his posture and crooks a finger to invite them inside.  Will is immediately bombarded with a plethora of Dalmatian memorabilia from posters to small figurines.  Even an entire Dalmatian chess set.

The dean quickly tries to collect all of it with a sheepish smile.  “Sorry, I’m sharing my office with a new administrator and she has a little thing for Dalmatians.” Will knows it’s a lie but doesn’t care enough to call him out on it.  If his answers about the murder are as easy to read as this, Will doesn’t think they’ll run into any issues.

Finally seated, the Dean steeples his fingers together and rests his chin on top.

“Shame about that Dean Spreck, at least he went out gracefully.”

This time Will grimaces, face greening. “He was fed coins then forced into women’s underwear.” 

The dean only looks slightly admonished before conceding, “I wouldn’t say _forced_.”

Will buries his face into his cupped hands. He should have stayed in Virginia.

 

 

 

 

     

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. I'm in love with both of these shows and just wanted to mess around with the characters to see how they'd interact. This is fun so write so I wanted to post the first chapter. I don't know how soon I'll update (or if I will, this story is sort of an experiment) but if I get good feedback it'll be sooner. Hope you all enjoyed :]


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